Today was starting to be a Good Day.

Though initial experimentation in movement had not gone terribly well, he'd finally managed to get some of his magic in line. Sort of in line, anyway; the initial failures had been extremely discouraging, but the first time he'd slammed his little paw against the ground and the bones had leapt away in front of it in a little line, instead of just wriggling there uselessly, had been a good feeling. It still didn't work every time, and it still felt like crushing defeat when something so small failed him, and it still didn't address the other issues regarding movement for him-- but it was something, and something was important.

Young as he was, circumstance had forced upon him an awareness of how precious little things like movement and food were-- things that other gems took for granted.

This was also the first time that Scar had a specific place in mind to go. He'd heard about Giggle, in bits and pieces. He'd heard of her as this strange creature, proprieter of strange secrets, who could sometimes tell the future, and that idea flickered magically in his mind. Maybe she would know some cosmic secret that could make his life easier, or at least comfort him with the vague knowledge that things wouldn't be so hard in the future. Of course, he knew, in a distant and vague sort of way, that the prediction could go the other way-- but this possibility did not seem real to him, as naive and inexperienced with the world as he was. Even with mobility being such a significant aspect of his issues, he still-- occasionally, and over rare subjects-- tended towards optimism with all the blind hope of the freshly-hatched.

So he'd been dragon-shoutingdispelling his way towards that area of the cave where Giggle was rumored to live, mostly successful, casting Dispel out in lines to clear his path of bones large-- which would simply block him-- and small-- which, jagged and sharp, would drag underneath him and cut up his undersides as he moved along. He only stopped when he neared her bonepile, shoving things away more slowly with his paws, which was slower-going and more tedious and made him miss some of the small, sharp bones-- but he didn't want to be rude, becuase he'd heard she lived around here in a specific bone pile, and knock over his house with his spell.

"Hello?" he called, voice thin and betraying his nervousness, "Er. Giggle? I heard you see the future?"

@Giggle

Her large, round ears pricked at the sound of a distant hollow thunk and a clatter of bones. She froze, curled where she was (bony and thin) behind a cluster of half-dead ferns above and behind her bone pile.

What is that...?

For awhile she lay motionless, barely breathing, wondering what new horrors the cave was about to unleash. Just when she had begun to calm, to inhale; just when she was considering pushing up to peer over the ledge, and see what was there, it came again.

Thunk. Clatter.

It was a loud "thunk," a whoomph, like a rush of pressure. But no voice came, no warning cry. The hyena cowered down again, dark eyes flicking over the stone before her.

Big monster? Giant void-thing? Is it coming? Is it swallowing everything?

Her heart raced weakly in her chest, and she saw flecks of swirling gray threatening to overtake her vision. Terror flooded through her as memories of nothing filled her mind. Then came the gentler sound, the tinkling warmth in her mind.

Omen will search. I love you Mother-sister. Be calm.

Again, they weren't... words, as such. Just a sense of her bonded Hallowed Caller's intentions, and a flood of reassuring emotion. The bird would look after its much larger "mother." She felt almost calmed, but a spike of fear thrust through her--

Be careful. I can't lose you too. I'll have nothing.

Blurry images flitted through her mind: the bones, slipping away below. A trail of cleared stone, and at the end of it, a massive young white beast like a bear, with wings where its rear legs should have been, dragging itself along.

It was frightening, but it held a strange familiarity about it--one that, in her state, she could not quite place. Her head poked up over the ledge as it approached, its voice almost gentle, tremulous...? It was looking for her. And its request steeled her, somewhat: the bones, she knew. She couldn't turn anyone away, if they wanted to see what the bones had to say--she was only their conduit.

She felt the bond with the bird, a gentle reassuring I told you it would be okay sensation, and then the beating of black wings as it soared to land beside her.

The scraggly, filth-caked hyena pushed herself up, peering down at the stranger. All sense of politeness had long left her in favor of near-madness, and so she simply blurted the first thing that came to mind, her voice masculine, and hoarse with disuse.

"What are you?"

________________

ROLL THE BONES

@Scarborough